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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126937">Out of Trouble</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/roanniom/pseuds/roanniom'>roanniom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Logan Lucky (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, NSFW, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:02:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/roanniom/pseuds/roanniom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Clyde defends you from a creep, he has a hard time calming down. You let him know it’s okay for him to take out that energy on you.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clyde Logan &amp; Reader, Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Out of Trouble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You reassess the situation you find yourself in – by no means an unfamiliar one, but definitely out of the norm these days and wholly unpleasant all the same. The man currently harassing you at the bar is clearly not a local. First of all, you don’t recognize the handsy son-of-a-bitch. And secondly, everyone in town knew that you were Clyde’s girl.</p><p>You two had only recently made things official, but in a way, hadn’t you always been Clyde’s girl? Your best friendship had always been tinged with a sweetness that surpassed the roles of mere pals. Sure there was flirting, how could you resist with the way a properly timed tease or suggestive comment could make Clyde blush and stammer as if on command? But even more prevalent, and more obvious to the patiently waiting members of the town, was the ownership you both had of one another. People knew better than to hassle either of you, verbally, hypothetically, or otherwise, in the presence of the other. You had Clyde’s back and he had yours, each of you displaying a possessiveness that made others smirk and roll their eyes while hiding their jealousy. You had what they did not, and now that the two of you were finally dating, envy was a common emotion amongst regular Duck Tape patrons.</p><p>Something this creep clearly was not privy to it would seem as he reached out to caress your forearm, an action which you flinch to avoid.</p><p>“Come on, baby. Let me buy you a fucking drink,” he was saying at this point. He was getting more forceful and though you had previously been courteous in your refusals, you realize that it might be time to fight back. He swayed on his barstool before continuing. “Stop being such a bitch. What could one drink hurt?”</p><p>“Every bone in yer fuckin’ body,” comes a low, deep growl that makes both you and the creep look up to the swinging door behind the bar. Your heart swells with relief and other, undefinable emotions as Clyde stalks up, his massive body an intimidating figure as it looms over the other, weasel-y man, threatening even with the bar between them.</p><p>“W-what’s your problem?” the creep practically squeaks before clearing his throat and jumping up, trying to draw himself up to his full height, which just comes across as laughable. Of course, next to Clyde, any height would be laughable.</p><p>“My problem is yer comin’ onto m’girl. That’s my problem.” His tone is deadly quiet. That’s your Clyde, soft spoken, even as his flesh hand clenches and murder simmers behind his eyes.</p><p>“Look, she was sitting here all alone. In my book that makes a bitch fair game - ” the creep begins, but he doesn’t get much farther with his misogynistic diatribe because Clyde reaches over, grabbing a nearby customer’s almost empty beer. Grasping the bottle around the neck, Clyde smashes the bottle down against the edge of the bar. The barrel shatters with a loud crash that silences the din of the room and causes the neck of every patron to whip around for the source of the sound. Clyde stands before the creep brandishing the remaining shards of the beer bottle like a shiv.</p><p>“Here’s what yer gonna do,” Clyde says calmly, the violence of his actions not succeeding in raising the volume of his voice. “Yer gonna apologize t’ the lil lady fer troublin’ her, understand?”</p><p>The creep stares at Clyde, wide-eyed and panicked before nodding and turning to you hastily.</p><p>“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry –”</p><p>“Good,” Clyde says, cutting the guy off so that he can no longer address you. You eye Clyde as he waves the shattered bottle menacingly. He’s never looked bigger. Never looked darker. Never looked hotter. When he speaks again his voice is even lower, if that’s possible. “Now yer gonna get the fuck outta my bar.”</p><p>The creep is gone in a matter of seconds, running out the front door so fast you almost imagine his skeleton being left on the bar stool in his wake like some frightened cartoon character. Before you can look back up at Clyde, his large hand is encircling your wrist and yanking you toward to door to the back of the bar. You let yourself be pulled, barely registering how the conversation kicks back in, customers already basking in the aftermath of Clyde’s rare emotional outburst.</p><p>Once the door to Clyde’s office is safely shut behind you, Clyde pushed you to sit down on his couch while he paces back and forth in front of you. You’re bewildered by this response, unsure if you should say something so you remain silent, watching him. After a moment Clyde yanks a hand through his hair forcefully. You swallow and decide to finally speak up.</p><p>“Are you okay, Clyde?”</p><p>“I’m NOT fuckin’ okay,” Clyde replies and you’re shocked at the way his voice raises with his words. You’re suddenly worried he’s gotten the wrong idea and you’re quick to fold your arms defensively across your chest, your own voice rising.</p><p>“Hey, if you’re mad at me you should know it’s not like I encouraged that asshole.”</p><p>Clyde is quick to round on you, looking panicked.</p><p>“I didn’t say ya did. I know ya wouldn’t…ya’d never…” Clyde trails off into a growl and resumes his pacing, flesh hand clenching and unclenching.</p><p>“It’s over, Clyde,” you soothe now, switching tactics and lowering your own defenses. He’s clearly distressed and you’re not sure how to calm him. “He’s not the first and probably won’t be the last guy to bother me.”</p><p>“That’s what’s killin’ me, darlin’. What if I hadn’t walked out? What if ya were alone an’ this happened?”</p><p>“I can take care of myself, you know.”</p><p>“I know ya can,” Clyde says, voice more characteristically quiet now but frustration no less palpable as he waves his prosthetic arm distractedly. “I dunno what’s gotten intuh me. I saw him touch ya an’…an’…” Clyde reaches out and swipes across a table, throwing everything to the ground. His chest heaves with his outburst. Yours is rising and falling rapidly now, too, but for you its stemming from the realization that this man. This sweet, beautiful man is losing his cool over his desire to protect you. To defend you. You’re a modern woman. As you’d just told him, you can take care of yourself and you are very proud of that fact. But something about the dark look in his eye and the way his muscles shift tensely beneath his shirt and the way he stomps before you makes you feel like you want to disappear in his arms and never resurface.</p><p>“You’re a good man, Clyde,” you say softly. He shakes his head and gives a humorless laugh.</p><p>“Not tonight, I’m not, darlin’. Not with these thoughts. I haven’t felt this way since…”</p><p>“Overseas?” you ask. He nods, trying to take a deep breath but releasing an even angrier exhale.</p><p>“I’m sorry, darlin’. I can’t seem to calm down. I’m just so fuckin’ mad.”</p><p>You watch your big bear, usually so gentle, wrestle with his emotions before you. Immediately you have an idea, standing up and moving to him. Using one hand to peel open his fist and interlace your fingers. He grips you too tight but you just bite your lip. Your other hand slides over his bicep and shoulder, kneading into the tense muscles there as you press your face into his chest. His prosthetic arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his body naturally. This does nothing to slow his breathing, which picks up more speed. Feeling you against his body is reminding him of how small you are. How vulnerable. He feels another surge of rage and desperation course through his veins.</p><p>“I don’t know why I’m feelin’ this way,” he mumbles but you reach up and grab his face to force him to look at you.</p><p>“Feel whatever way you feel,” you reassure him. You lift up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, but the force with which he responds steals your breath. His arms wind around your body and crush you to him as his tongue ruthlessly explores your mouth, as if searching for solace can only be done in the space where you are most conjoined. The aggression is dizzying and his fingers are bruising on your frame but you love it. Used to light touches, soft caresses, you feel a hunger burn beneath your skin, as if your every muscle is rejoicing at the deeper pressure, the deeper friction.</p><p>When Clyde finally pulls away you are winded and dazed, now breathing just as heavily. His eyes look no less wild but now there is a tinge of concern.</p><p>“M’sorry, darlin’. We should stop, ‘m too worked up. Can’t be sweet to ya the way ya like.” His words are husky and rushed but you’re just as rushed to shush him. You’re already working at his belt and pulling him back to the couch.</p><p>“I like you in whatever way you’ll have me, baby,” you mumbled against his flesh, kissing down his throat as you pull him down to the cushions. “Take it out on me.”</p><p>“What if I’m too rough with ya?” Clyde asks, but his hands are already ripping your shirt over your head and his mouth latches onto your throat, your collar bone, your breast through your bra.</p><p>“I want you to be rough with me, Clyde. I’ve wanted you to be rough with me since the moment you walked out and gave that asshole what-for.” You’re pressed down, back against the couch now, with your legs tight around the wide barrel of Clyde’s body.</p><p>“Did ya like that, darlin’? Yer Big Bear defending ya?” He’s no longer hesitant in his movements and no longer trying to stop himself. Instead he takes a handful of your ass, pulling your pelvis up off the couch so that your clothed pussy presses fully into his erect and waiting cock. You moan, both at the sensation and at him calling himself Big Bear for the first time. You’d only been dating for a few weeks and things were still new, including shyness around pet names. You’d called him Big Bear the night before in the teasing lead up to some love making and he’d only flushed and stammered in response, busying himself by burying his face between your thighs.</p><p>But right now he’s gazing down at your face with an air of intensity and you feel saliva pool in your mouth and wet slick your quivering heat.</p><p>“I liked my Big Bear defending me. So strong and big.” You say the last word as you close your hand around his enormous cock through his unzipped jeans. Clyde bucks into your hand and hums from where he’s suckling at the underside of one of your breasts, curved down into you despite your differences in height.</p><p>“Nobody else can have ya,” he grumbles before hoisting you higher on the couch so he can position his cock at your entrance. You gasp at the feeling of his member sliding between your folds, getting covered in your waiting slick.</p><p>“Nobody. Only you, Big Bear.” Before you can say anything else Clyde has speared into you in one swift motion and taken up an unforgiving pace. There was the aggression he’d been worried about and boy was it rough. You cling to him for dear life as he fucks you into the couch cushions. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack.</p><p>It hurts – he’s much too big to be going this hard this fast – but his grip on you is so tight it melts your aching muscles. The desperation of his thrusts make you hiccup through your inhales and you feel surrounded. Crushed. Filled. All in the best way possible. You love the darling Clyde who coaxes your orgasms with caresses and honeyed words and languid strokes. But this Clyde – this is your Big Bear. His eyes drink in your bouncing breasts as he’s not able to clutch them with the way he has to support his own weight with his good arm. Your back arches deeper from the effects of a particularly deep thrust, bringing your chest up to press against his and he groans.</p><p>“This body. No wonder people’re comin’ on to ya, darlin’. This body’s too perfect,” he practically growls, burying his face into your throat. “Maybe I should just keep ya here on my cock. Stay inside ya. Keep me warm and keep ya outta trouble.”</p><p>You moan loudly as his dirty words are accentuated by a change in angle that lets him pound into a particularly sweet spot. Your walls pulse around him.</p><p>“Oh god. Oh Clyde.”</p><p>“Back to callin’ me Clyde already? Am I not bein’ rough enough for ya?” Clyde asks, biting down into the sensitive flesh of your throat. You cry out, hips gyrating against him, legs and walls clamping down around him with an unconscious need to keep him buried deep inside you.</p><p>“F-fuck, oh fuck me, Big Bear. I can take it!” you practically whine.</p><p>“Yes ya can. So good, takin’ yer Big Bear.” His trusts begin to bottom out harsher, faster. The pressure and the speed have pulled your muscles as taut as they can go and you know you’re seconds from snapping. It was all so sudden. You’re both so worked up, not only from the experience out in the bar, but from the headiness of being this way with one another for the first time. He may be the one pounding into you, but you’re giving as good as you’re getting, rolling your hips up to meet each thrust. Pulling him down into you and raking your fingernails up and down his back.</p><p>It’s desperate and needy and possessive – equally so. He is yours and you are his and ownership never tasted so sweet.</p><p>Just as you’re about the cum, Clyde seems to sense it and shoves your legs up by the back of the knee, ensuring his next few thrusts rub up against the spot inside you that makes your eyes cross and makes your moans turn into desperate whimpers. You have the vague thought that this proves how well Clyde has come to know your body, what a great student he is of your orgasm, just as said orgasm crashes over you.</p><p>You know for sure that the Duck Tape customers heard you. Your belief in your audience becomes even stronger when Clyde lets out a delicious moan as he cums, too, painting your insides with spend made just for you. You’re sweaty and it’s only 7 pm on a Tuesday. Clyde’s going to have to go back to tending bar and you’re going to have to slink out, so clearly ravaged and thoroughly fucked to the likely amusement of a roomful of people who’d been rooting for your coupling. You chuckle to yourself, as Clyde drops the weight of his whole body on you, crushing you. Those people outside definitely got a chance just now to hear your coupling firsthand.</p><p>“That…was amazing.” It comes out breathless, as though you’ve just run a marathon. And because you have the mass of a large man pressing you into the couch. When Clyde finally lifts his head from its resting place at your neck he looks sheepish and embarrassed and pleased and winded.</p><p>“’M sorry if I was too much for ya, darlin’. Once ya started touchin’ me I couldn’t think straight.”</p><p>You silence him with a kiss, grabbing his face to make it deep. When you pull away your smile is ear to ear.</p><p>“If you make me feel like that, baby, there’s absolutely nothing to apologize for.”</p><p>Clyde moves to pull out of you, his cum now seeping out around his softening cock, but you tighten your legs around him suddenly.</p><p>“What happened to staying inside me, mister?” you tease.</p><p>Clyde stands abruptly, pulling you up with him still seated in your dripping cunt. Your gasp and scramble to hold onto him. He takes a few playful steps towards the door and you swat at him.</p><p>“No, I think yer right, darlin’. What better way tuh make cocktails than with my lil cockwarmer?”</p><p>~*~</p>
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